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Epilogue
Southfort Precinct, 11:20 pm.
The cool evening breeze tossed the leaves fallen from the garden outside the precinct entrance across the parking lot, the numerous blue and white Dodge Chargers and Ford Explorer’s now replacing most of the aging Crown Victorias. The two carved insignia’s of the CVPD beside the main entrance were illuminated in white floodlights as was the banner above the doorway reading Southfort Police Station.
The automatic doors slid open as Bryan and Renamon finally exited the building, descending the handful of steps that lead down from the main entrance. Bryan grimaced in pain as he slipped on his dark green suede jacket over his grey T-shirt, looking down at his black cargo pants as he paused at the bottom of the steps. Renamon paused with her Rev’ It motorcycle jacket over her shoulder and backpack, tucking her left hand into her matching trousers as she waited for her partner. Her left shoulder was slightly bigger beneath her blue shirt, thanks to the extra padding provided by the bandages over her shoulder. Bryan slipped his jacket on with some difficulty, giving only a brief nod before he set of walking again as she walked alongside him.
There wasn’t the usual small chat that accompanied them at the end of watch, the both of them decidedly more reserved than usual as was to be expected after putting in seven hours of overtime. And being forced to take a human life and nearly being killed themselves. The ambulances had arrived only moments after the shooting had concluded and Bryan had collapsed in the street. The citizen Bryan had pulled out of the firing line was the first to leave the scene before he and Renamon and Mr’s Woodrow’s wife were transported to hospital for treatment. Renamon’s shoulder was hastily patched up by the paramedic as she sat beside her unconscious partner and Mrs Woordrow being taken in another ambulance for some minor scratches and bruises along with the obvious trauma of the whole affair. Bryan had awoken with a start barely a minute from the hospital, his revival confirming that he had collapsed from shock. He was somewhat aghast at the throbbing purple bruise on his exposed chest beneath where his Kevlar vest had stopped the bullet. Upon seeing the bloodied bandage covering Renamon’s shoulder, he had made an effort to reach up to her, only to fall back from the stabbing pain in his chest that struck him like a bolt of lightning. He graciously accepted some pain relief just before they arrived at the hospital, where the next phase of their ordeal was yet to begin.
An x-ray revealed that Bryan’s second left rib was broken, cracked from the bullet impact. It had come dangerously close to puncturing his lung, but fortunately the vest had done its job to not just stop the bullet but dissipate its energy. Renamon’s injuries were perhaps worse to look at but were little more than a flesh wound. Pellets from the suspect’s shotgun had torn across the edge of her shoulder, one of the pellets tucked into a fold of torn flesh that was removed by the doctor. It was a frightful but non-serious wound that was not expected to cause any long term damage. The same could not have been said had she been standing just a foot more to the left where it was likely she would have received a direct hit to the upper chest that could have been fatal even with her vest. While they were being tended to, their Captain had come to see them to check on their condition. He also told them that Mrs Woodrow and the wounded civilian were in good health, though the latter would remain in hospital for some time while the doctors removed the bullet from her lower back. But they both knew as well what his official reason was in coming to see them was; the inquest into the shooting would begin as soon as they left the building.
Of course they would not be the only ones involved in the inquest. All the officers on scene were questioned and those involved in the shooting would be placed on administrative leave pending the outcome from the review board. The abundance of video footage from each body cam would surely help to speed up the process of exoneration, but even with the departments fairly good public image of late, there could be no margin for error and no slack given in the investigative process.
After leaving the hospital, Bryan and Renamon were driven back to the station where detectives were waiting to question them. During the ride, Renamon had looked up the news reports of the shooting on her phone and was surprised to see helicopter footage of her clambering up the power pole and leaping across the roof the building, the video already circulating across the internet with titles such as ‘Baddass female cop jumps onto roof and shoots bank robber’ or ‘Cop climbs up power pole and jumps like a boss’. She did not think that video of the incident would have been made public so soon, but she assumed it must have been from a news helicopter rather than from the air unit on scene.
Upon arriving at the precinct there were many officers waiting to greet them and offer support, even congratulations on escaping death, but Bryan and Renamon were quickly separated and taken to different interview rooms. The process was tiring, but the investigators assured them that they and the other officers who had been involved in the shooting had nothing to worry about. There was also some praise handed out about the earlier pursuit and Bryan’s daring rush to pull the wounded citizen out of harm’s way; whom the surviving suspect was adamant he did not shoot, but forensics would tell the truth soon enough.
This fact, as one might expect, did more to alleviate the worries of Renamon more so than Bryan, who had only been shot and not fired his weapon during the ordeal. But as the two walked around the left side of the building towards the employee parking area, Renamon took key note of Bryan’s demeanour; his face was pale and his expression blank except for his eyes which seemed to be throbbing like the welt on his chest. He walked slowly and occasionally rubbed his chest as might be expected from his fractured rib, but she suspected his pace was more closely linked to an invisible weight he was carrying, weight she felt she should be shouldering instead.
After all, she had killed a man. A man who had shot first, yes, but his death was entirely her by her hand and her bullets, the man who had shot Bryan had been killed by a hail of bullets fired from multiple officers. There was no way to know who had fired the fatal shot, much like the members of a military firing squad not knowing who was carrying blanks and who was carrying live rounds. Not that it really mattered; it had been necessary after all.
So why did he look worse than she did? Somehow she knew it wasn’t just the fact he had narrowly avoided death yet again in the space of a few years. There was also the one little fact that she hadn’t mentioned about the ordeal, nor had Bryan ever since he had regained consciousness, almost as if he had forgotten about it but she hadn’t. He had called her ‘Damien’. She mentally evaluated how she would probe the issue as they passed into the employee parking area, nearing the motorcycle spaces.
“Should I feel bad?” she asked suddenly, hoping to break through his exterior by plying his concern for her. Bryan turned his head towards her they paused beside the first motorcycle space.
“About what?” he asked bluntly, groaning slightly as he touched his chest and breathed in cautiously.
“Should I feel worse about today than I do?” she asked uneasily, biting down on her teeth to try to hide any excess emotion. She was not being dishonest about how she felt about it, but rather her motivation was not for herself. Bryan’s eyes looked up as his lips puckered out in exaggerated thought, shaking his head and saying,
“What’s to feel bad about? Some guy tried to shoot you and you shot back. It’s no big deal.”
“But it should be, shouldn’t it?” she asked timidly, “It shouldn’t feel like something that’s easy to do.”
“What are you worried about?” he demanded curtly, “It’s not the first time you had to do it.”
“That’s different,” she replied quickly, “In the Animalia it was like being trapped in a cage or being backed into a corner. Then it was just flight or fight. But I wasn’t the one being trapped this time; I was one doing the trapping.”
“You saying you feel sorry for the guy who tried to kill you? The guy who tried to kill me?”
“I feel sorry that it went that way it did,” she replied sadly, sighing heavily as she leaned her head back to the sky. Bryan’s face softened, his shoulders slumped down as his tongue flicked across his lips like a snake as Renamon dipped her head down. He reached across and gripped her right shoulder,
“Just don’t sweat it, alright? It’s not something you’ve got to do every day. Just thank God for that,” he said warmly, though in a tone that seemed eager to conclude the conversation. Renamon duly noted this though pretended not to notice as just nodded slowly in response. Bryan dropped his hand quickly from her shoulder.
“You sure you don’t want a ride?” he asked, beckoning to her shoulder. Renamon shook her head,
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“Alright then,” he said readily, “See you later,” and without pause strode off towards his car. The suddenness of his departure caught her off guard; Renamon narrowly avoided reaching out after him.
“Bryan!” she called out, bringing him to a halt after only a few steps. He seemed to have stopped reluctantly, keeping his back turned to her even as he heard her approaching from behind. Bryan grasped at his rib again, rubbing his chest with one hand and taking in a deep breath through his nose. As Renamon walked up beside him, he continued to stare ahead as though he hadn’t noticed her. He felt her gaze burrowing into the side of his head, finally making him to her.
“It not really me I’m worried about,” she confessed meekly.
“What?” he asked, looking perplexed.
“You look as pale as a ghost. And you’ve looked that way ever since you woke up in the ambulance. I thought it was just the shock, but you’re not looking any better now.”
“Well, I did get shot in the chest,” he retorted sourly.
“And I got clipped in the wing,” she said equally, “That’s not just it though. It’s more than that.”
“Look,” Bryan scolded, “They’re going get the department shrink to talk to us. Let’s just forget about it for tonight, okay?” he snapped and made to walk off.
“Sergeant!” Renamon cried icily, stopping him before he took even two steps. Bryan scowled; she only ever called him by his rank in two ways; lightly or harshly. The latter was always the more disconcerting. Bryan about turned, the scowl he wore being no match for hers. They stared each other down for a few tense moments as if waiting for the other to speak first, but inwardly they both knew who would speak first.
“Before you fainted, do you remember what you said?”
Bryan shook his head impatiently, “I don’t know, something like, be careful, don’t get yourself killed?”
“You called me ‘Damien’,” she proclaimed sharply. Bryan felt his heart drop below the ground he was standing on.
“What? No I didn’t...”
“Yes, you did!” she told him as she marched up to him, “It was the last thing you said before you fainted.”
“It can’t be,” he protested, “Why would I say that?”
“You tell me, Bryan. I don’t think you fainted because of the bullet.”
Bryan gulped as though he was a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. The mention of the bullet inflamed the bruise on his chest as he brushed his hands over his face. The moment of impact replayed in his mind like a video on loop, faster and faster with every passing second. He tried to force himself to remember past it; to when he had been dragged beside the car and Renamon had rushed over to him. He remembered seeing the blood on her arm, the thing that had prompted him to speak.
He remembered the cold concrete of the river channel as his body was knocked down by Spencer’s bullets, these ones penetrating his vest. He remembered seeing Damien throw Renamon down to protect her as he was shot in the back....
‘What is happening to me?’ he thought as the two events crossed over in his mind, Bryan feeling his legs turn to jelly beneath him.
“Bryan!” Renamon shouted as she lunged forward to grab him as he stumbled over against a parked motorbike, his weight pulling her over as the bike was knocked over onto the ground with the pair of them falling on top of it. The crash echoed across the parking lot, drawing the attention of a pair of officers from the front of the building. As they emerged around the corner, they saw Renamon pushing herself up and helping Bryan to his feet.
“Are you alright?” Renamon asked quickly as Bryan groaned and clutched painfully at his chest, his breathing unsteady. Bryan pushed her away and stumbled away from the motorcycle, reaching for and throwing his arms down on the boot of a parked car, throwing his head down on top of them. Renamon stood in the middle of the lot, watching him dauntingly as she heard muffled sobs coming from him. She turned her head to the sound of the approaching officers but a harsh wave from her made them both stop and turn away. Musing solemnly, she turned and walked to the collapsed motorcycle, a black Kawasaki Ninja 1000, and lifted it back onto its wheels and setting it back on its stand. The sound of the motorcycle being righted caused Bryan to lift his head from his arms and turn back to her. Bryan wiped his arm under his nose as he blinked his eyes to clear them.
“I’m sorry. That’s yours, right?” he asked desolately.
“No harm done,” she replied as she set the bike back up, brushing her hand over the new scuff on the right side mirror.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, leaning on his right arm against the boot of the car, putting face in his palm. Renamon picked her jacket up off the ground and laid it across the bike before turning back to her partner. He was breathing heavily, sobbing helplessly into his palm. She approached slowly from behind, reaching out to his shoulder as he cried. She stood at his side, letting him have his moment of sadness unabated even as it pained to watch more than her bandaged shoulder.
“It just all came back,” he said finally, “All of it. I miss him, Rena...”
“Me too,” she replied softly, her lips quivering as she took a sharp breath to try and steady her emotions. Bryan began to pick himself up, Renamon helping to steady him as he leaned back against the car, both hands holding onto the trunk lid. The light of the lamps hanging over the parking lot illuminated the streaks beneath his eyes; eyes that sought solace in those of the Kitsune. Renamon took gentle hold of his head and cradled it against her shoulder, her eyes dimming as she began to lose the battle of dry eyes. The distant wail of sirens and car horns out in the city they paid no heed to as the pair stood as the only persons in the parking lot.
A message tone suddenly played inside Bryan’s jacket, the sound abruptly ending the embrace as Renamon released his head and Bryan reached into his jacket and took out his phone in his right hand. The screen illuminated with a text message beside a thumbnail of Selene that read,
‘Everything okay? Please let me know when you’ll be home. XXX’.
Bryan sighed heartily, looking up at his partner and friend as she smiled apologetically.
“You have her to look forward to every end of watch. Is that enough to be glad your kevlar saved your life?” she asked. Bryan felt his mouth curve back to a smile, letting out a short chuckle as he wiped his eyes.
“I don’t know what I’d do without her,” he said whimsically. He shook his head before he looked down to the phone again, staring at the smiling thumbnail. Renamon’s hand reached over and warmly took hold of his phone hand.
“Then don’t keep her waiting,” she told him gently. She gave him a firm tap on his shoulder, smiled at him before she turned and strode over towards the motorcycle. Bryan pocketed the phone as he stood and watched her leaving, watching her tail twirl as she walked. She put down her bag and slipped on her riding jacket before she mounted the Ninja 1000, picking up her bag and customised helmet. It was shaped to fit comfortably over her triangular shaped head, two sharp triangle shaped protrusions angled out of the helmet to accommodate her ears. As she checked the helmets straps, Bryan stepped forward awkwardly as if jeered on by an invisible observer.
“Hey,” he called over, Renamon glancing over her shoulder at him. He waited for her reply but none came so he spoke again, “I’ve got to say––”
“Forget it,” she cut in swiftly with a grin. She slipped the helmet over her shoulder and fastened the straps. The black customized helmet looked almost like something from science fiction or a comic book, the ears having an almost Batman like quality to them. With a swift kick the Kawasaki barked to life. She turned her head back to Bryan who stood where she had left him.
“See you later, Sergeant,” she said cheerfully. He nodded and smiled to her as she walked the bike backwards out of the space. She revved the motor playfully, turning her head to Bryan on her left and nodding to him before she pulled on the throttle and pulled away easily. Bryan watched as she cruised down the line of cars before turning left and then right down the lane towards the main street. After a moment’s contemplation, he slowly turned away and began to walk further down the lot. As he walked by the line of spaces, he took out his phone and swiped open the message bank. He tapped the last message sent by Selene and quickly typed back to her,
‘On my way now. Will see you soon. Love you, babe xxx’ and clicked ‘Send’.
As he sent the message, Bryan had come to a stop at the last car on the right. He looked up from the phone and slipped it in his pocket, slowly, almost reluctantly turning to face the vehicle in question. He stared at the grill and frowning headlights of a black 2012 Dodge Charger. A number of such vehicles were still on strength of the CVPD even as they were being phased out for newer models. He remembered when he had first seen it on an internet ad for a reasonable price and when he had gone to get it the day it had been bought. He had taken the day off to drive Damien to get his new wheels which were now here and in his possession. Bryan sighed lowly as he stepped over to the driver’s side door, taking the keys from his pocket as he pressed the remote to unlock it. The familiar double beep replied as he sat one hand on top of the doorframe. It had not been until the morning after the raid on the Animalia that Damien’s car had been discovered among the many cars parked in and around the nightclub. It had been inconspicuously parked alongside the southern side of the parking lot where the helicopter had been shot down and crashed, destroying or damaging most of the cars present but leaving not a scratch. He wondered how Damien would have reacted if he’d known how close his beloved muscle car had come to destruction.
Bryan opened the door and climbed inside, grimacing as his chest responded to his shifting weight. He sank back into the seat, letting his tired body settle and his hands massage the steering wheel. A feeling of comfort soon washed over him, seated in a cocoon that was controllable all by him. The world outside that was beyond his reign was partitioned off by a shield of glass, plastic and steel. It was the next best thing to home. But still the car gave him mixed feelings. It seemed whether he was glad to have kept it or not depended on the alignment of the stars. Every drive in it was either marred by memories either mournful or nostalgic. His current mood persuaded him that the former was most likely.
“Come on, Damien. Let go home,” he sighed greyly. He put his foot on the brake and pressed the push button ignition, the familiar V8 started up cleanly and without hassle. As the rhythm of the engine vibrated through the steering wheel, the randomiser on the CD changer began to play a track from Damien’s favorites list; Bobby Fuller Four- I fought the Law.
‘Breaking rocks in the hot sun,
I fought the law and the law won,
I fought the law and the law won,’
Bryan smiled widely as his sprits lifted in an instant. He laughed in an almost giddy way, even the pain in his chest not wiping the smile that now danced across his mouth. He put the Charger into gear and slowly pulled out of the parking space. He followed the same path as Renamon, turning left at the end of straight and then right to head through the ‘Out’ lane of the parking lot. He bobbed his head lightly with the music as he pulled away from the Southfort Precinct, grateful that he was at the end of another watch. Even more so that he would begin another one soon enough.
‘I left my baby and it feels so bad,
Guess my race is run,
She's the best girl that I ever had,
I fought the law and the law won,
I fought the law and the law won’
The End
On Duty Contact is finished.
After three years and nine months, it is finished. I honestly can say that I never would have thought it would take me this long or indeed that I would end up making the story so long. Even these last few chapters are an example of that. I had originally to end the story with Renamon and Bryan leaving the school after visiting young Reymont heading towards the unknown danger, leaving the events of the rest of the day unknown to the reader as indeed the unknown is very much what police officers deal with on a daily basis. Would this call be a false alarm or the real deal? Would it maybe be the last call they made?
But I just kept writing and ended up doing the whole bank scenario. I think really it was just because I'd reached a point of no return and it didn't seem right backing out. But the more I thought about it I released that I had started this story at the Southfort Police Precinct and it only seemed fitting to end it at that same location.
I think back to the genesis of the idea and how it evolved beyond what my original vision was. Since joining the furry fandom I came to realize how popular certain characters, most notably Renamon from Digimon. I didn't watch the show growing up but I admit I came to see her as an attractive character. But the thing that bothered me quite a lot was how much of the adult fanart seemed to focus on abuse/rape. I've kind of become used to this part of the fandom of almost any female character, but for some reason I felt like I had to defend this character and make a kind of statement.
The first idea was meant to be much more on the nose of the issue. It would follow Renamon who would have been portrayed as a celebrity of some kind and she would end up being the victim of sexual assault by an obsessed fanboy or boys. It was meant to be a more direct criticism of the fandom, but real world events and my love of the Cop show "Southland" and playing Battlefield Hardline would turn it into something different.
In the time these ideas were brewing, so was the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement in response to a number of highly publicized police shootings in the United States, particularly the shooting of Michael Brown in Ferguson Missouri. Soon the narrative spawned that police officers were systematically murdering young black men for no justification. The question of race in regards to policing became a national issue and the mainstream media was more than happy to go well out of its way to demonize law enforcement.
I won't claim that there has not been unjustified acts of violence by police, some of which I even alluded to in my own story. But the scenario of a police officer using deadly force against an 'unarmed' suspect is a tricky one. For some their is never justification for such an act and on paper it may seem to be the case, but I began to wonder what I might be able to do if I tried to put the reader in the shoes of a police officer who is clearly not racist, someone who does their job exceptionally well but who finds themselves in that situation where they fear for their life and end up taking a life and then almost immediately they become the new face of evil, the new punching bag for the media. How their life is instantly turned around not just by their actions, but how the world immediately turns against them and screams for blood. I hoped that I might help give someone an insight into these dramas and how they affect the professional and personal lives of those involved.
For everyone who has read and enjoyed the story, for everyone who added my work to their favorites and took the time out to comment, I thank you deeply. There were a few times when I did not think I would finish it because of things going in in my life. My father's ailing health and losing his job and mine really took it out of me. But I ended up persevering if only to prove to myself that I could complete such an undertaking.
And finally, I wish to express a huge amount of gratitude to Hattonslayden for his support and all the work he did relating to my story, both those I commissioned and those he did just as favors or as character studies. Your artwork continues to entertain, excite and inspire.
Hatton's work related to my story:
Coverart:
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/17181965/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/17178483/
Renamon:
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/16218544/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/16216836/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/16126320/
Damien Holt:
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/16550148/
https://www.deviantart.com/hattonsl.....Holt-537860322
Damien and Renamon:
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/19648491/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/19725713/
Southfort Precinct, 11:20 pm.
The cool evening breeze tossed the leaves fallen from the garden outside the precinct entrance across the parking lot, the numerous blue and white Dodge Chargers and Ford Explorer’s now replacing most of the aging Crown Victorias. The two carved insignia’s of the CVPD beside the main entrance were illuminated in white floodlights as was the banner above the doorway reading Southfort Police Station.
The automatic doors slid open as Bryan and Renamon finally exited the building, descending the handful of steps that lead down from the main entrance. Bryan grimaced in pain as he slipped on his dark green suede jacket over his grey T-shirt, looking down at his black cargo pants as he paused at the bottom of the steps. Renamon paused with her Rev’ It motorcycle jacket over her shoulder and backpack, tucking her left hand into her matching trousers as she waited for her partner. Her left shoulder was slightly bigger beneath her blue shirt, thanks to the extra padding provided by the bandages over her shoulder. Bryan slipped his jacket on with some difficulty, giving only a brief nod before he set of walking again as she walked alongside him.
There wasn’t the usual small chat that accompanied them at the end of watch, the both of them decidedly more reserved than usual as was to be expected after putting in seven hours of overtime. And being forced to take a human life and nearly being killed themselves. The ambulances had arrived only moments after the shooting had concluded and Bryan had collapsed in the street. The citizen Bryan had pulled out of the firing line was the first to leave the scene before he and Renamon and Mr’s Woodrow’s wife were transported to hospital for treatment. Renamon’s shoulder was hastily patched up by the paramedic as she sat beside her unconscious partner and Mrs Woordrow being taken in another ambulance for some minor scratches and bruises along with the obvious trauma of the whole affair. Bryan had awoken with a start barely a minute from the hospital, his revival confirming that he had collapsed from shock. He was somewhat aghast at the throbbing purple bruise on his exposed chest beneath where his Kevlar vest had stopped the bullet. Upon seeing the bloodied bandage covering Renamon’s shoulder, he had made an effort to reach up to her, only to fall back from the stabbing pain in his chest that struck him like a bolt of lightning. He graciously accepted some pain relief just before they arrived at the hospital, where the next phase of their ordeal was yet to begin.
An x-ray revealed that Bryan’s second left rib was broken, cracked from the bullet impact. It had come dangerously close to puncturing his lung, but fortunately the vest had done its job to not just stop the bullet but dissipate its energy. Renamon’s injuries were perhaps worse to look at but were little more than a flesh wound. Pellets from the suspect’s shotgun had torn across the edge of her shoulder, one of the pellets tucked into a fold of torn flesh that was removed by the doctor. It was a frightful but non-serious wound that was not expected to cause any long term damage. The same could not have been said had she been standing just a foot more to the left where it was likely she would have received a direct hit to the upper chest that could have been fatal even with her vest. While they were being tended to, their Captain had come to see them to check on their condition. He also told them that Mrs Woodrow and the wounded civilian were in good health, though the latter would remain in hospital for some time while the doctors removed the bullet from her lower back. But they both knew as well what his official reason was in coming to see them was; the inquest into the shooting would begin as soon as they left the building.
Of course they would not be the only ones involved in the inquest. All the officers on scene were questioned and those involved in the shooting would be placed on administrative leave pending the outcome from the review board. The abundance of video footage from each body cam would surely help to speed up the process of exoneration, but even with the departments fairly good public image of late, there could be no margin for error and no slack given in the investigative process.
After leaving the hospital, Bryan and Renamon were driven back to the station where detectives were waiting to question them. During the ride, Renamon had looked up the news reports of the shooting on her phone and was surprised to see helicopter footage of her clambering up the power pole and leaping across the roof the building, the video already circulating across the internet with titles such as ‘Baddass female cop jumps onto roof and shoots bank robber’ or ‘Cop climbs up power pole and jumps like a boss’. She did not think that video of the incident would have been made public so soon, but she assumed it must have been from a news helicopter rather than from the air unit on scene.
Upon arriving at the precinct there were many officers waiting to greet them and offer support, even congratulations on escaping death, but Bryan and Renamon were quickly separated and taken to different interview rooms. The process was tiring, but the investigators assured them that they and the other officers who had been involved in the shooting had nothing to worry about. There was also some praise handed out about the earlier pursuit and Bryan’s daring rush to pull the wounded citizen out of harm’s way; whom the surviving suspect was adamant he did not shoot, but forensics would tell the truth soon enough.
This fact, as one might expect, did more to alleviate the worries of Renamon more so than Bryan, who had only been shot and not fired his weapon during the ordeal. But as the two walked around the left side of the building towards the employee parking area, Renamon took key note of Bryan’s demeanour; his face was pale and his expression blank except for his eyes which seemed to be throbbing like the welt on his chest. He walked slowly and occasionally rubbed his chest as might be expected from his fractured rib, but she suspected his pace was more closely linked to an invisible weight he was carrying, weight she felt she should be shouldering instead.
After all, she had killed a man. A man who had shot first, yes, but his death was entirely her by her hand and her bullets, the man who had shot Bryan had been killed by a hail of bullets fired from multiple officers. There was no way to know who had fired the fatal shot, much like the members of a military firing squad not knowing who was carrying blanks and who was carrying live rounds. Not that it really mattered; it had been necessary after all.
So why did he look worse than she did? Somehow she knew it wasn’t just the fact he had narrowly avoided death yet again in the space of a few years. There was also the one little fact that she hadn’t mentioned about the ordeal, nor had Bryan ever since he had regained consciousness, almost as if he had forgotten about it but she hadn’t. He had called her ‘Damien’. She mentally evaluated how she would probe the issue as they passed into the employee parking area, nearing the motorcycle spaces.
“Should I feel bad?” she asked suddenly, hoping to break through his exterior by plying his concern for her. Bryan turned his head towards her they paused beside the first motorcycle space.
“About what?” he asked bluntly, groaning slightly as he touched his chest and breathed in cautiously.
“Should I feel worse about today than I do?” she asked uneasily, biting down on her teeth to try to hide any excess emotion. She was not being dishonest about how she felt about it, but rather her motivation was not for herself. Bryan’s eyes looked up as his lips puckered out in exaggerated thought, shaking his head and saying,
“What’s to feel bad about? Some guy tried to shoot you and you shot back. It’s no big deal.”
“But it should be, shouldn’t it?” she asked timidly, “It shouldn’t feel like something that’s easy to do.”
“What are you worried about?” he demanded curtly, “It’s not the first time you had to do it.”
“That’s different,” she replied quickly, “In the Animalia it was like being trapped in a cage or being backed into a corner. Then it was just flight or fight. But I wasn’t the one being trapped this time; I was one doing the trapping.”
“You saying you feel sorry for the guy who tried to kill you? The guy who tried to kill me?”
“I feel sorry that it went that way it did,” she replied sadly, sighing heavily as she leaned her head back to the sky. Bryan’s face softened, his shoulders slumped down as his tongue flicked across his lips like a snake as Renamon dipped her head down. He reached across and gripped her right shoulder,
“Just don’t sweat it, alright? It’s not something you’ve got to do every day. Just thank God for that,” he said warmly, though in a tone that seemed eager to conclude the conversation. Renamon duly noted this though pretended not to notice as just nodded slowly in response. Bryan dropped his hand quickly from her shoulder.
“You sure you don’t want a ride?” he asked, beckoning to her shoulder. Renamon shook her head,
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“Alright then,” he said readily, “See you later,” and without pause strode off towards his car. The suddenness of his departure caught her off guard; Renamon narrowly avoided reaching out after him.
“Bryan!” she called out, bringing him to a halt after only a few steps. He seemed to have stopped reluctantly, keeping his back turned to her even as he heard her approaching from behind. Bryan grasped at his rib again, rubbing his chest with one hand and taking in a deep breath through his nose. As Renamon walked up beside him, he continued to stare ahead as though he hadn’t noticed her. He felt her gaze burrowing into the side of his head, finally making him to her.
“It not really me I’m worried about,” she confessed meekly.
“What?” he asked, looking perplexed.
“You look as pale as a ghost. And you’ve looked that way ever since you woke up in the ambulance. I thought it was just the shock, but you’re not looking any better now.”
“Well, I did get shot in the chest,” he retorted sourly.
“And I got clipped in the wing,” she said equally, “That’s not just it though. It’s more than that.”
“Look,” Bryan scolded, “They’re going get the department shrink to talk to us. Let’s just forget about it for tonight, okay?” he snapped and made to walk off.
“Sergeant!” Renamon cried icily, stopping him before he took even two steps. Bryan scowled; she only ever called him by his rank in two ways; lightly or harshly. The latter was always the more disconcerting. Bryan about turned, the scowl he wore being no match for hers. They stared each other down for a few tense moments as if waiting for the other to speak first, but inwardly they both knew who would speak first.
“Before you fainted, do you remember what you said?”
Bryan shook his head impatiently, “I don’t know, something like, be careful, don’t get yourself killed?”
“You called me ‘Damien’,” she proclaimed sharply. Bryan felt his heart drop below the ground he was standing on.
“What? No I didn’t...”
“Yes, you did!” she told him as she marched up to him, “It was the last thing you said before you fainted.”
“It can’t be,” he protested, “Why would I say that?”
“You tell me, Bryan. I don’t think you fainted because of the bullet.”
Bryan gulped as though he was a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. The mention of the bullet inflamed the bruise on his chest as he brushed his hands over his face. The moment of impact replayed in his mind like a video on loop, faster and faster with every passing second. He tried to force himself to remember past it; to when he had been dragged beside the car and Renamon had rushed over to him. He remembered seeing the blood on her arm, the thing that had prompted him to speak.
He remembered the cold concrete of the river channel as his body was knocked down by Spencer’s bullets, these ones penetrating his vest. He remembered seeing Damien throw Renamon down to protect her as he was shot in the back....
‘What is happening to me?’ he thought as the two events crossed over in his mind, Bryan feeling his legs turn to jelly beneath him.
“Bryan!” Renamon shouted as she lunged forward to grab him as he stumbled over against a parked motorbike, his weight pulling her over as the bike was knocked over onto the ground with the pair of them falling on top of it. The crash echoed across the parking lot, drawing the attention of a pair of officers from the front of the building. As they emerged around the corner, they saw Renamon pushing herself up and helping Bryan to his feet.
“Are you alright?” Renamon asked quickly as Bryan groaned and clutched painfully at his chest, his breathing unsteady. Bryan pushed her away and stumbled away from the motorcycle, reaching for and throwing his arms down on the boot of a parked car, throwing his head down on top of them. Renamon stood in the middle of the lot, watching him dauntingly as she heard muffled sobs coming from him. She turned her head to the sound of the approaching officers but a harsh wave from her made them both stop and turn away. Musing solemnly, she turned and walked to the collapsed motorcycle, a black Kawasaki Ninja 1000, and lifted it back onto its wheels and setting it back on its stand. The sound of the motorcycle being righted caused Bryan to lift his head from his arms and turn back to her. Bryan wiped his arm under his nose as he blinked his eyes to clear them.
“I’m sorry. That’s yours, right?” he asked desolately.
“No harm done,” she replied as she set the bike back up, brushing her hand over the new scuff on the right side mirror.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, leaning on his right arm against the boot of the car, putting face in his palm. Renamon picked her jacket up off the ground and laid it across the bike before turning back to her partner. He was breathing heavily, sobbing helplessly into his palm. She approached slowly from behind, reaching out to his shoulder as he cried. She stood at his side, letting him have his moment of sadness unabated even as it pained to watch more than her bandaged shoulder.
“It just all came back,” he said finally, “All of it. I miss him, Rena...”
“Me too,” she replied softly, her lips quivering as she took a sharp breath to try and steady her emotions. Bryan began to pick himself up, Renamon helping to steady him as he leaned back against the car, both hands holding onto the trunk lid. The light of the lamps hanging over the parking lot illuminated the streaks beneath his eyes; eyes that sought solace in those of the Kitsune. Renamon took gentle hold of his head and cradled it against her shoulder, her eyes dimming as she began to lose the battle of dry eyes. The distant wail of sirens and car horns out in the city they paid no heed to as the pair stood as the only persons in the parking lot.
A message tone suddenly played inside Bryan’s jacket, the sound abruptly ending the embrace as Renamon released his head and Bryan reached into his jacket and took out his phone in his right hand. The screen illuminated with a text message beside a thumbnail of Selene that read,
‘Everything okay? Please let me know when you’ll be home. XXX’.
Bryan sighed heartily, looking up at his partner and friend as she smiled apologetically.
“You have her to look forward to every end of watch. Is that enough to be glad your kevlar saved your life?” she asked. Bryan felt his mouth curve back to a smile, letting out a short chuckle as he wiped his eyes.
“I don’t know what I’d do without her,” he said whimsically. He shook his head before he looked down to the phone again, staring at the smiling thumbnail. Renamon’s hand reached over and warmly took hold of his phone hand.
“Then don’t keep her waiting,” she told him gently. She gave him a firm tap on his shoulder, smiled at him before she turned and strode over towards the motorcycle. Bryan pocketed the phone as he stood and watched her leaving, watching her tail twirl as she walked. She put down her bag and slipped on her riding jacket before she mounted the Ninja 1000, picking up her bag and customised helmet. It was shaped to fit comfortably over her triangular shaped head, two sharp triangle shaped protrusions angled out of the helmet to accommodate her ears. As she checked the helmets straps, Bryan stepped forward awkwardly as if jeered on by an invisible observer.
“Hey,” he called over, Renamon glancing over her shoulder at him. He waited for her reply but none came so he spoke again, “I’ve got to say––”
“Forget it,” she cut in swiftly with a grin. She slipped the helmet over her shoulder and fastened the straps. The black customized helmet looked almost like something from science fiction or a comic book, the ears having an almost Batman like quality to them. With a swift kick the Kawasaki barked to life. She turned her head back to Bryan who stood where she had left him.
“See you later, Sergeant,” she said cheerfully. He nodded and smiled to her as she walked the bike backwards out of the space. She revved the motor playfully, turning her head to Bryan on her left and nodding to him before she pulled on the throttle and pulled away easily. Bryan watched as she cruised down the line of cars before turning left and then right down the lane towards the main street. After a moment’s contemplation, he slowly turned away and began to walk further down the lot. As he walked by the line of spaces, he took out his phone and swiped open the message bank. He tapped the last message sent by Selene and quickly typed back to her,
‘On my way now. Will see you soon. Love you, babe xxx’ and clicked ‘Send’.
As he sent the message, Bryan had come to a stop at the last car on the right. He looked up from the phone and slipped it in his pocket, slowly, almost reluctantly turning to face the vehicle in question. He stared at the grill and frowning headlights of a black 2012 Dodge Charger. A number of such vehicles were still on strength of the CVPD even as they were being phased out for newer models. He remembered when he had first seen it on an internet ad for a reasonable price and when he had gone to get it the day it had been bought. He had taken the day off to drive Damien to get his new wheels which were now here and in his possession. Bryan sighed lowly as he stepped over to the driver’s side door, taking the keys from his pocket as he pressed the remote to unlock it. The familiar double beep replied as he sat one hand on top of the doorframe. It had not been until the morning after the raid on the Animalia that Damien’s car had been discovered among the many cars parked in and around the nightclub. It had been inconspicuously parked alongside the southern side of the parking lot where the helicopter had been shot down and crashed, destroying or damaging most of the cars present but leaving not a scratch. He wondered how Damien would have reacted if he’d known how close his beloved muscle car had come to destruction.
Bryan opened the door and climbed inside, grimacing as his chest responded to his shifting weight. He sank back into the seat, letting his tired body settle and his hands massage the steering wheel. A feeling of comfort soon washed over him, seated in a cocoon that was controllable all by him. The world outside that was beyond his reign was partitioned off by a shield of glass, plastic and steel. It was the next best thing to home. But still the car gave him mixed feelings. It seemed whether he was glad to have kept it or not depended on the alignment of the stars. Every drive in it was either marred by memories either mournful or nostalgic. His current mood persuaded him that the former was most likely.
“Come on, Damien. Let go home,” he sighed greyly. He put his foot on the brake and pressed the push button ignition, the familiar V8 started up cleanly and without hassle. As the rhythm of the engine vibrated through the steering wheel, the randomiser on the CD changer began to play a track from Damien’s favorites list; Bobby Fuller Four- I fought the Law.
‘Breaking rocks in the hot sun,
I fought the law and the law won,
I fought the law and the law won,’
Bryan smiled widely as his sprits lifted in an instant. He laughed in an almost giddy way, even the pain in his chest not wiping the smile that now danced across his mouth. He put the Charger into gear and slowly pulled out of the parking space. He followed the same path as Renamon, turning left at the end of straight and then right to head through the ‘Out’ lane of the parking lot. He bobbed his head lightly with the music as he pulled away from the Southfort Precinct, grateful that he was at the end of another watch. Even more so that he would begin another one soon enough.
‘I left my baby and it feels so bad,
Guess my race is run,
She's the best girl that I ever had,
I fought the law and the law won,
I fought the law and the law won’
The End
On Duty Contact is finished.
After three years and nine months, it is finished. I honestly can say that I never would have thought it would take me this long or indeed that I would end up making the story so long. Even these last few chapters are an example of that. I had originally to end the story with Renamon and Bryan leaving the school after visiting young Reymont heading towards the unknown danger, leaving the events of the rest of the day unknown to the reader as indeed the unknown is very much what police officers deal with on a daily basis. Would this call be a false alarm or the real deal? Would it maybe be the last call they made?
But I just kept writing and ended up doing the whole bank scenario. I think really it was just because I'd reached a point of no return and it didn't seem right backing out. But the more I thought about it I released that I had started this story at the Southfort Police Precinct and it only seemed fitting to end it at that same location.
I think back to the genesis of the idea and how it evolved beyond what my original vision was. Since joining the furry fandom I came to realize how popular certain characters, most notably Renamon from Digimon. I didn't watch the show growing up but I admit I came to see her as an attractive character. But the thing that bothered me quite a lot was how much of the adult fanart seemed to focus on abuse/rape. I've kind of become used to this part of the fandom of almost any female character, but for some reason I felt like I had to defend this character and make a kind of statement.
The first idea was meant to be much more on the nose of the issue. It would follow Renamon who would have been portrayed as a celebrity of some kind and she would end up being the victim of sexual assault by an obsessed fanboy or boys. It was meant to be a more direct criticism of the fandom, but real world events and my love of the Cop show "Southland" and playing Battlefield Hardline would turn it into something different.
In the time these ideas were brewing, so was the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement in response to a number of highly publicized police shootings in the United States, particularly the shooting of Michael Brown in Ferguson Missouri. Soon the narrative spawned that police officers were systematically murdering young black men for no justification. The question of race in regards to policing became a national issue and the mainstream media was more than happy to go well out of its way to demonize law enforcement.
I won't claim that there has not been unjustified acts of violence by police, some of which I even alluded to in my own story. But the scenario of a police officer using deadly force against an 'unarmed' suspect is a tricky one. For some their is never justification for such an act and on paper it may seem to be the case, but I began to wonder what I might be able to do if I tried to put the reader in the shoes of a police officer who is clearly not racist, someone who does their job exceptionally well but who finds themselves in that situation where they fear for their life and end up taking a life and then almost immediately they become the new face of evil, the new punching bag for the media. How their life is instantly turned around not just by their actions, but how the world immediately turns against them and screams for blood. I hoped that I might help give someone an insight into these dramas and how they affect the professional and personal lives of those involved.
For everyone who has read and enjoyed the story, for everyone who added my work to their favorites and took the time out to comment, I thank you deeply. There were a few times when I did not think I would finish it because of things going in in my life. My father's ailing health and losing his job and mine really took it out of me. But I ended up persevering if only to prove to myself that I could complete such an undertaking.
And finally, I wish to express a huge amount of gratitude to Hattonslayden for his support and all the work he did relating to my story, both those I commissioned and those he did just as favors or as character studies. Your artwork continues to entertain, excite and inspire.
Hatton's work related to my story:
Coverart:
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/17181965/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/17178483/
Renamon:
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/16218544/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/16216836/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/16126320/
Damien Holt:
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/16550148/
https://www.deviantart.com/hattonsl.....Holt-537860322
Damien and Renamon:
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/19648491/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/19725713/
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 79 x 120px
File Size 24.3 kB
Wow, you read all of it already? Maybe I just overestimate how long it is because it took me three years to finish it lol.
Thank you for reading and I'm glad you enjoyed it. If you have any advise or opinions on me writing I'd love to hear it! You don't have to critique every chapter but anything you have to say is much appreciated. Thanks again. Merry Christmas and a Happy new year!
Thank you for reading and I'm glad you enjoyed it. If you have any advise or opinions on me writing I'd love to hear it! You don't have to critique every chapter but anything you have to say is much appreciated. Thanks again. Merry Christmas and a Happy new year!
Just finished the whole thing and I love this one. There was enough of ‘What Will Happen Next’ to really keep me hooked. I think this might have even helped my own Writers Block.
Possible Spoiler Warnings!
Damien: Loved him, though I kept picturing him as Street from the current SWAT TV series. It sucked what happened to him.
Bryan: He had the right amount of ‘Tension’, especially towards the end. I honest thought he was the one to make the Heroic Sacrifice towards the end, nice twist.
Renamon: I loved her ‘Total Badassery’ yet not being perfect.
Kristina and Sasha: I loved the two of them, wish there was more of them. I would have loved to have seen more of them.
Delaware: The only one who I thought did not deserve to go out the way he went out…
Lieutenant Benjamin Martinez and Lieutenant Franklin Winton: Loved These Two! Again I wish there was more of them, I think they would make a good spin off series.
Desta Cayman: Another I wanted to see more of, even if was just a short list of things like at the end of Dragnet where they would go over what happened to him in the end. My hopes was when I the Bank Robbery started was him being a Rookie with one of the responding units. I think that would have been something Damien would have been Proud of.
Spencer: I just kept thinking of the Coroner’s Report ‘The Suspect died from a 147 self inflicted gunshot wounds!’
Ryuu: Died the way his Arrogant Ass should have...well him just being pinned and then burned up by the fire while the only thing he could make out was his club would have been a better way to go. He only had one person to blame, himself. If he had not been so insistent on ‘Renemon Must Be My Main Attraction’ his organization would have never been figured out.
You did have the occasional word that was out of place, but I can not hold that again you, I keep writing exited when it should be excited.
The occasional ‘Double Chapter’ was a little distracting, but not two bad. I am assuming it had to do with ‘I think this would be better whiting this way’ syndrome and not just doing an edit.
I would have loved to have seen chapter chapter titles.
Now as a Writer to a Writer:
I would love to use the following characters in some of my stuff, but only if you are ok with it.
Kristina and Sasha
Lieutenant Benjamin Martinez and Lieutenant Franklin Winton
Desta Cayman
Possible Spoiler Warnings!
Damien: Loved him, though I kept picturing him as Street from the current SWAT TV series. It sucked what happened to him.
Bryan: He had the right amount of ‘Tension’, especially towards the end. I honest thought he was the one to make the Heroic Sacrifice towards the end, nice twist.
Renamon: I loved her ‘Total Badassery’ yet not being perfect.
Kristina and Sasha: I loved the two of them, wish there was more of them. I would have loved to have seen more of them.
Delaware: The only one who I thought did not deserve to go out the way he went out…
Lieutenant Benjamin Martinez and Lieutenant Franklin Winton: Loved These Two! Again I wish there was more of them, I think they would make a good spin off series.
Desta Cayman: Another I wanted to see more of, even if was just a short list of things like at the end of Dragnet where they would go over what happened to him in the end. My hopes was when I the Bank Robbery started was him being a Rookie with one of the responding units. I think that would have been something Damien would have been Proud of.
Spencer: I just kept thinking of the Coroner’s Report ‘The Suspect died from a 147 self inflicted gunshot wounds!’
Ryuu: Died the way his Arrogant Ass should have...well him just being pinned and then burned up by the fire while the only thing he could make out was his club would have been a better way to go. He only had one person to blame, himself. If he had not been so insistent on ‘Renemon Must Be My Main Attraction’ his organization would have never been figured out.
Now on the the writer’s critiques…
You did have the occasional word that was out of place, but I can not hold that again you, I keep writing exited when it should be excited.
The occasional ‘Double Chapter’ was a little distracting, but not two bad. I am assuming it had to do with ‘I think this would be better whiting this way’ syndrome and not just doing an edit.
I would have loved to have seen chapter chapter titles.
Now as a Writer to a Writer:
I would love to use the following characters in some of my stuff, but only if you are ok with it.
Kristina and Sasha
Lieutenant Benjamin Martinez and Lieutenant Franklin Winton
Desta Cayman
Wow, I'm really humbled that you not only read the whole thing so quickly and gave such a detailed critique! Thank you so much!
Like I said in the forward of this story, my main source of inspiration was the T.V show "Southland" with Damien Holt being specifically based off the character Ben Sherman. It how I pictured him in my mind at least. I'm sure you have surmised that I was inspired by all the controversies around law enforcement and the way the media creates its own narrative.
Looking back at it one thing I feel that could have improved on was the anthromoprh characters. I feel that I probably put more focus on the human characters and not enough on the likes of Kristina and Sasha. I also wanted to avoid having Eugene Casselton being the token black character, though he may be the only person of color among the particular circle of friends, I made sure he wasn't the only person of color seen or mentioned because that's a trope I can't stand in media because you know its just done to tick a box.
As for Renamon, yeah I wanted her to be a badass of course but I wanted to be clear that their is a reason for that,(ie her being a Kitsune makes her naturally more physically capable and athletic than an average human but also her background in fitness traning and martial arts, though she is a bit rusty on that before she was attacked). This is so she isn't just the all powerful woman "just because" its what SJW's demand.
For Ryuu I was actually quite late in deciding on making him a Kitsune as well (hence why I avoided any very specific details until he is fully revealed). I thought of making him a Tibetan sand fox because after I saw them on the web and just thought they were the coolest thng I'd ever seen but in the end I thought it would be good to create a ying and yang dynamic by having Ryuu and Renamon represent polar opposites.
As for chapters, I also post of deviant art and their is a limit to how big the files can be so really if it weren't for that there would be probably half as many chapters since I could make them longer and not have to awkwardly split some of them in two.
For Desta I was thinking about having a little extra scene where Renamon sees a news report about the latest college graduates and among them is Desta Cayman, fulfilling his promise to his brother that he would make something of himself, but by then I was just trying to finish the story but in my mind that is what happened to him.
Thank you again for your extensive review. If you wish to use these characters then please do, my only condition being that they remain in character in whatever it is you choose to use them in.
Like I said in the forward of this story, my main source of inspiration was the T.V show "Southland" with Damien Holt being specifically based off the character Ben Sherman. It how I pictured him in my mind at least. I'm sure you have surmised that I was inspired by all the controversies around law enforcement and the way the media creates its own narrative.
Looking back at it one thing I feel that could have improved on was the anthromoprh characters. I feel that I probably put more focus on the human characters and not enough on the likes of Kristina and Sasha. I also wanted to avoid having Eugene Casselton being the token black character, though he may be the only person of color among the particular circle of friends, I made sure he wasn't the only person of color seen or mentioned because that's a trope I can't stand in media because you know its just done to tick a box.
As for Renamon, yeah I wanted her to be a badass of course but I wanted to be clear that their is a reason for that,(ie her being a Kitsune makes her naturally more physically capable and athletic than an average human but also her background in fitness traning and martial arts, though she is a bit rusty on that before she was attacked). This is so she isn't just the all powerful woman "just because" its what SJW's demand.
For Ryuu I was actually quite late in deciding on making him a Kitsune as well (hence why I avoided any very specific details until he is fully revealed). I thought of making him a Tibetan sand fox because after I saw them on the web and just thought they were the coolest thng I'd ever seen but in the end I thought it would be good to create a ying and yang dynamic by having Ryuu and Renamon represent polar opposites.
As for chapters, I also post of deviant art and their is a limit to how big the files can be so really if it weren't for that there would be probably half as many chapters since I could make them longer and not have to awkwardly split some of them in two.
For Desta I was thinking about having a little extra scene where Renamon sees a news report about the latest college graduates and among them is Desta Cayman, fulfilling his promise to his brother that he would make something of himself, but by then I was just trying to finish the story but in my mind that is what happened to him.
Thank you again for your extensive review. If you wish to use these characters then please do, my only condition being that they remain in character in whatever it is you choose to use them in.
Wow that was a quick reply...
I will try to make your OC's be in as much in Character as you made them,
Kristan and Sasha being a little playfull. Though due to the nature of my primary story (Circles) making one of the Bi.
Lieutenant Benjamin Martinez and Lieutenant Franklin Winton being serious and to the point in the Good Cop/Bad Cop Dymanic, though as the two stories I want to use them in are all furry (One in my Circles and the other Zootopia) I was planning on keeping Martines a Doberman and making Winton the Bulldog.
As for Desta Cayman, after the incident at Holt's home I could see him taking see him thinking abut doing some research into Law enforcment and figuring the best way to keep his brother's death more meaningful and taking the 'The Best Way To Make Better Cops Is To Become One And Be The Best Peace Officer One Can Be' attitude. Might even include a story where he helps someone else decide to become a Better person.
When I finished with my Introduction to Desta I can send it to you to see what you think.
I will try to make your OC's be in as much in Character as you made them,
Kristan and Sasha being a little playfull. Though due to the nature of my primary story (Circles) making one of the Bi.
Lieutenant Benjamin Martinez and Lieutenant Franklin Winton being serious and to the point in the Good Cop/Bad Cop Dymanic, though as the two stories I want to use them in are all furry (One in my Circles and the other Zootopia) I was planning on keeping Martines a Doberman and making Winton the Bulldog.
As for Desta Cayman, after the incident at Holt's home I could see him taking see him thinking abut doing some research into Law enforcment and figuring the best way to keep his brother's death more meaningful and taking the 'The Best Way To Make Better Cops Is To Become One And Be The Best Peace Officer One Can Be' attitude. Might even include a story where he helps someone else decide to become a Better person.
When I finished with my Introduction to Desta I can send it to you to see what you think.
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